By KARLA COOK

August 8, 2013

We knew there was belly dancing, because we entered 3 Olives restaurant through the bar, where a sign announced it. But, distracted by the conversation and the food, we had forgotten about it until the high-volume Arabic music began. The server was apologetic but firm — the dancer needed loud music — but told us it would not last long.

Eventually, the dancer — beautiful, skillful and lithe — swept from the bar into the dining room, clapped for her drummer, who appeared from around the corner, and began to move. We put our forks down.

The server was correct; the performance was just a few minutes. The music returned to low-volume American pop. And we returned to our conversation and our meal, both of which were enriched by a smidgen of culture shared in dance.

Kris Zafar and his wife, Arina, opened 3 Olives, their first restaurant, in January, 30-odd years after Mr. Zafar arrived at age 12 from Kabul, Afghanistan, with his family, he said on the phone after my visits. He was working part-time in restaurants by age 14, learning management and cooking skills, and refining his dream of having his own place.

Djala, an Afghan dessert with ice cream.

Marc Steiner for The New York Times

Now, Mr. Zafar is the chef and goes to the butcher shop for halal meats, makes rice-flour noodles from scratch and treasures his mother’s recipes; his wife looks after the front of the house on weekends, chatting with customers.

The restaurant is a small, dim, rectangular room with booths on the sides and tables in the center; an artificial fireplace is suspended on one wall. Though the menu has Buffalo wings, a burger and other offerings for the unadventurous, it mostly offers a mix of Afghan and Mediterranean fare — roasted and grilled meats, rice-based dishes and many vegetables — making 3 Olives a welcome addition to the culinary landscape in central New Jersey. And it’s a bargain: Most main dishes come with soup or salad, along with an interesting vegetable, like stewed pumpkin.

On two visits, the meals began with a basket of beguilingly hot house-made naan with two thin dips, the first a soft-green concoction of yogurt, cilantro, garlic and chili pepper; the second, a reddish vinaigrette-style one of olive oil, red peppers, garlic and lemon juice.

Standout appetizers included fried aushak, the little scallion-filled dumplings topped with house-made yogurt, meat sauce and a sprinkle of dried mint, made according to Mr. Zafar’s mother’s recipe; manto, which are steamed dumplings stuffed with beef and chopped onions and are also topped with yogurt and dried mint; and falafel that paired nicely with the thick yogurt dip alongside.

Qabeli palaw, a northern Afghan specialty of chunks of lamb and brown rice, studded with shredded carrots, raisin and almonds.

Marc Steiner for The New York Times

Less interesting was the mast-o-khiar, diced cucumber in yogurt and dried mint, which did not transcend its list of ingredients. Stuffed grape leaves were unremarkable.

Some of the more interesting appetizers are also available as main dishes, namely the buranee kadu, a seductive dish of slow-cooked sweet pumpkin with onion and tomato, seasoned with cinnamon and cardamom and served under a veil of yogurt; and the buranee badenjan, made with eggplant, also slow-cooked with onions and, during the summer, tomatoes from southern New Jersey.

Main dishes were attractive and highly aromatic — a pleasure. They were generally well prepared, though the charbroiled chicken kebab and the seafood combo (charbroiled and grilled shrimp, tilapia and mahi-mahi on one visit) were slightly overcooked. The classic gyro platter was delicious, with good balance between meat, yogurt and greens.

Three rice-based lamb dishes are easy to recommend: qabeli palaw, a northern Afghan specialty of slow-cooked lamb with brown rice, studded with shredded carrots, raisins and almonds; qurma chalaw, another lamb dish with tomatoes, onions and garlic over white rice; and buranee badenjan, the eggplant stew, cooked with lamb.

As for desserts, get the chai and choose the house-made baklava with pistachios, or the rice pudding. But order those only if there’s no djala — a kind of sundae of Mr. Zafar’s house-made rice-flour noodles over shaved ice and topped with vanilla ice cream, a sprinkling of rose water, some simple syrup, a splash of half-and-half, whipped cream, chopped pistachios and a luridly red maraschino cherry. It will leave you smiling.